


The Talon Wand

by Cantatrice18



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Broken Families, Gen, Missing Scene, Reunions, Sisters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 12:22:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7934464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cantatrice18/pseuds/Cantatrice18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following the mass breakout from Azkaban, the inmates arrive at Malfoy Manor and begin celebrating their freedom. But Bellatrix Lestrange has unfinished business with her sister, vital enough to leave the revelry and follow Narcissa into the depths of the mansion in order to recover that which she lost fifteen years before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Talon Wand

They came in a rush, like rats flooding up from the sewer, a pack of dark wizards in tattered clothes, whooping and celebrating their newfound freedom as they rushed through the gates and up the path toward Malfoy Manor. Narcissa watched their approach from an upstairs tower window, arms locked tightly across her chest, blue eyes searching the crowd for a single face. There, near the rear – a gaunt, wild-haired female, instantly recognizable despite her torn robes and skeletal limbs: Bellatrix Lestrange, the Dark Lord’s most devoted servant. Narcissa felt her breath catch in her throat. Turning away from the window, she made her way out of the tower and to the gallery that surrounded the entrance hall. The ragged wizards were inside now, the great doors of the Manor thrown wide to receive them as though they were visiting royalty. Others drifted among them, still wearing the ominous masks that marked them as followers of the Dark Lord. Narcissa had eyes for only one escaped prisoner. She stood, still as marble, until she saw the dark-haired woman enter. Then, with a whispered spell, she flicked her wand and a tiny ball of emerald light floated down to alight on Bellatrix’s shoulder. At once the woman’s eyes grew wide, her head jerking up as her gaze darted around the room. Her eyes met Narcissa’s and she smiled hungrily. Without a word to her compatriots, she slipped out of the main hall and up a small side staircase hidden behind a tapestry. A moment later the two women stood face to face, each examining the other with intense fascination. “Well?” Bellatrix asked after a long moment. Her voice was low and hoarse, worn down like the rest of her from years in Azkaban, but there was still a note of command in it that imprisonment had not managed to take away. “Where is it?” she demanded.

“Here, Bella,” Narcissa replied, motioning for the woman to follow her down a long corridor. “I’ve kept it close, always.”

The two walked together down the portrait-lined halls, the sounds from the entrance hall fading as they drew further and further away. Finally, Narcissa opened a stately ebony door and ushered the other woman in, shutting the door firmly behind them. 

All remaining sound from outside died at once. They stood in a sumptuously appointed bedroom, the size of a small house. An enormous canopy bed draped in green and black dominated the room, while a chandelier of fine crystal and gilded silver cast a ring of bright light over the black marble floor. Narcissa crossed to the left side of the bed, where an ornately carved vanity held a variety of potions and powders. Drawing her wand, she pointed it at the vanity drawer, brows knit in concentration. At once the delicate handle of the drawer transformed from a trio of coiled silver snakes to a single, solid black rod of iron, not unlike a prison bar in miniature. Reaching out, Narcissa grasped the black handle and opened the drawer, drawing forth a narrow box the length of her forearm, its top marked with a plain black seal. Behind her, she heard Bellatrix hiss. Clawed hands appeared in her vision as Bellatrix tugged the box out of her grasp, panting with excitement. “It’s here, I feel it. How do I get it?” 

“Blood,” Narcissa replied simply. “It’s an essence spell.”

At once Bellatrix began to pace, one hand clutching the box and its precious contents to her chest as she searched the bedroom. “Haven’t you got a knife here somewhere, or a pin, anything?”

“No need,” said Narcissa, stepping forward so that she blocked the other woman from pacing. Slowly, with gentle hands, she ran her index finger along the side of Bellatrix’s neck, where a long scratch still bled sluggishly. The red of Bellatrix’s blood stained her fingertips as she drew them away, and as Bellatrix held out the box she pressed her hand against the black seal on top of the lid. The seal glowed green, a serpent appearing on it for a split second before it broke in two. The top of the box disappeared entirely, to reveal a compartment lined in black velvet. Nestled within the folds of fabric lay a wand of polished walnut, curved like an eagle talon. With trembling hands, Bellatrix reached into the box and lifted out the wand, her eyes enormous in her skull-like face. The moment her fist closed around the handle a silent concussive shock emanated from the wand, vibrating the stone beneath their feet and making the crystals in the chandelier above clink together like strange music. Bellatrix’s eyes closed, her expression blissful as she clutched the wand to her chest. “At last,” she whispered. “God, how I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you as well,” Narcissa said softly. “Fifteen years now, isn’t it?”

Bellatrix was not listening. She was turning the wand over and over in her hands, seeing it from every angle. “I will make you unstoppable,” she crooned to it, a hint of madness in her eyes. “I will bring you victims to satisfy you and pay for our years apart. You will rule over all others, save for my Lord.”

Narcissa shivered at the unfamiliar tone in her sister’s voice. “Come, Bella. You need clothes. Mine ought to fit you, with a bit of help.”

When Bellatrix did not respond, she gently took the woman’s arm and led her to the dresser. “Try this one,” she said, selecting a brown dress with delicate embroideries up the sides and a deep v-neck. She had trouble getting the ragged clothes off of her sister, and an even harder time getting the dress on, for Bellatrix still clutched her wand with both hands as though it might fly away. Only when Narcissa had managed to do up the laces at the back of the dress did Bellatrix look away from the wand, examining herself in the full-length mirror that hung on the wall nearby. Narcissa saw at once that the dress was too large, and the sight gave her a swift pang of grief. Bellatrix had always been the beauty of the family, striking and magnificent, with her noble features and alluring curves. Starvation had changed her figure entirely, and the neckline of the dress dipped far lower than it did on the already slim Narcissa. She was a shadow of her former self, and from the look she gave the dress she knew how she’d changed. Unable to bear the sight of her sister’s withered body, Narcissa began to rummage in the wardrobe. “Give me just one moment,” she murmured. “I have something…” A moment later she drew out a leather corset. “This ought to be an improvement.”

Bellatrix said nothing, her expression distant and sad. As gently as she could, Narcissa laced the corset around her sister’s narrow waist. “Just like old times,” she murmured. “When we were young, remember?”

Bellatrix did not respond, but when Narcissa had finished she surveyed herself in the mirror. A slow smile spread across her lips. “Better,” she asserted. “It will do for now.” She froze, her lips parting in anticipation. “My Lord,” she murmured. “He is here.”

“How do you know?” Narcissa asked, but Bellatrix did not answer, pushing past her and heading for the door. “Wait,” Narcissa called. “Please, Bella.”

To her surprise Bellatrix paused in the doorway, looking back. A smile, neither mad nor hungry, flitted across her lips. “Just like old times,” she rasped. “We’re going to enjoy ourselves, little sister.”

She left, leaving the door open wide. Narcissa gazed at the spot where her sister had been, listening as Bellatrix’s footsteps grew fainter and fainter. “I hope so,” Narcissa mutters. “I truly hope so.”


End file.
